Time starts

As suddenly as time had stopped, it resumes with a jolt. The hospital room bursts into life, the sounds of beeping monitors and hushed conversations filling the air once more. From another room in the ward, I hear the panicked voices of hospital staff responding to an emergency, and I can't help but think that it's connected to Grant. Despite not being able to see what's happening, it quickly becomes apparent that something has gone terribly wrong.

Caught off guard by the sudden commotion, Grace jumps in surprise, her eyes widening as she notices me standing next to the bed. Her heart races, trying to process the seemingly impossible scene before her. She takes a deep breath, attempting to calm herself and rationalize what she's just witnessed.

"Wow, I must have been really focused on my phone," she murmurs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I didn't even notice you getting out of bed. You should have said something!"

She chides me, concern evident in her voice. "You know you shouldn't be pushing yourself like that without help. You're still recovering, after all."

I nod, feeling a pang of guilt for startling my sister, though I know the truth behind the bizarre incident is far more complex than she realizes. The weight of my newfound connection to the ring and the life-altering implications it holds for me hangs heavy in my mind, even as I try to act as if nothing has changed.

Returning to my bed, I notice that my phone has finally gained enough charge to turn on. I pick it up and am immediately greeted with a barrage of notifications. My heart sinks as I see a string of missed calls and voicemails from my new workplace, all from the days I was supposed to report for duty. I had completely forgotten about my new job amidst the chaos and confusion of the accident and the mysterious ring.

Nervously, I begin listening to the voicemails in chronological order, each message painting a more and more disheartening picture of my professional situation. In the first message, my new boss Clint sounds helpful, assuming I'm having trouble finding parking or the office entrance. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I listen.

"Hey John, it's Clint from Task Wysh Incorporated. Just checking in to see if you're having any trouble finding the office or parking. It's your first day, and we're eager to have you onboard. Give me a call if you need any assistance. See you soon!"

By the second message, his tone has shifted to annoyance, instructing me to have the receptionist contact him as soon as I arrive. I feel a knot forming in my stomach.

"John, it's Clint again. We're still waiting for you to arrive, and it's been a while since your scheduled start time. When you get here, please have Cindy, the receptionist, contact me so I can come to meet you. Thanks."

As I continue listening, the messages only grow more concerning. The receptionist, Cindy, calls, politely reminding me of my expected start date. I can't help but wince as I realize the extent of my mistake.

"Hello John, this is Cindy from Task Wysh Incorporated. Just a friendly reminder that today was your expected start date. If you're running late or need to reschedule, please give us a call back. Thank you!"

The next voicemail is from Clint, his disappointment evident as he demands a return call as soon as possible. My anxiety spikes, and I'm finding it harder to breathe.

"John, I'm not sure what's going on, but we still haven't heard from you. It's crucial that you return my call as soon as possible. We need to discuss the situation and find out what happened. Thank you."

The next two messages are from Cindy, calling on the second and third days, both requesting a callback. The concern in her voice only adds to the weight on my shoulders.

"Hi John, it's Cindy again from Task Wysh Incorporated. We didn't hear from you yesterday, and we're concerned. Please call us back as soon as you can. We hope everything is okay."

"John, this is Cindy once more. We still haven't heard from you, and we're growing increasingly worried. It's essential that you contact us to discuss your situation. We hope to hear from you soon."

My stomach churns with anxiety as I realize the gravity of my situation, having unintentionally abandoned my new job before it even began.

As I set my phone aside, I try to collect my thoughts, feeling overwhelmed by the consequences of my absence. Hoping for a more complete understanding of the situation, I decide to check my work emails.

The emails follow a similar pattern to the voicemails, starting with introductions and first-day instructions, along with helpful reminders sent an hour after my shift would have started. My chest tightens with every email I read, the reality of my situation settling in.

As I continue reading, I come across an email from HR sent on the fourth day of my absence, rescinding my job offer. My heart plummets as I read the words, feeling the weight of my mistake more than ever before. The email also includes an invoice for the moving expenses Task Wysh Incorporated had paid to relocate me to the city, and the cold realization that my health insurance coverage has been terminated sends a chill down my spine.

My hands tremble as I hold my phone, my thoughts racing. I'm now on the hook for all of my medical expenses, moving costs, and everything else I'll need to start my life in the city. To make matters worse, I'm also under contract for my apartment lease for the next 12 months.

I'm emotionally crushed by these developments, and I struggle to think clearly as I try to figure out what to do next.

"Hey," I begin, my voice shaky. "I need to talk to you about something important."

My sister looks up from her phone, her eyes reflecting the concern in mine. "Of course, what's going on?"

I take a deep breath and start explaining the situation. "While I was ****, I missed my first days at my new job. I got a bunch of voicemails and emails from my boss and the receptionist, and they ended up rescinding my job offer. They also sent me an invoice for the moving expenses they covered."

Her eyes widen in disbelief. "Oh no, that's awful. I'm so sorry, John."

"I don't know what to do," I admit, feeling the weight of the problem bearing down on me. "Without the job, I don't have health insurance, and I'm responsible for all my medical expenses. Plus, I'm stuck with the moving costs and the lease for my apartment."

My sister frowns, deep in thought. "That's a lot to handle. Have you considered calling them to explain what happened?"

"I've thought about it," I reply, "but I'm worried that even if they believe me, they might not want to take me back. The hospital can provide proof, but what if they've already filled my position or just don't think it's worth the risk?"

She pauses, mulling over the situation. "It's hard to say, but it might be worth a try. The worst they can say is no, and at least you'll know you did everything you could."

As we continue to talk, my mind races through different scenarios. What if they don't think I'm worth the trouble? What if they've already moved on and don't want to deal with the complications? But on the other hand, what if they understand and give me a second chance? The uncertainty gnaws at me, making the decision that much more difficult.

My sister seems to sense my hesitation. "Look, John, I know this is a tough choice to make. But whatever you decide, I'm here for you. We'll figure this out together."

Her words provide a small measure of comfort, and I'm grateful for her unwavering support. We talk a bit more, weighing the pros and cons of each option, trying to determine the best course of action.